


Missing You, Too

by PursuitOfDiscovery



Series: Two Hundred and Twenty One Baker Streets [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Post Reichenbach, Sherlock AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:57:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3247097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PursuitOfDiscovery/pseuds/PursuitOfDiscovery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sherlock ends up talking to himself in the back of a cab.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing You, Too

“He couldn’t have possibly been out murderer, too oblivious, unaware. Now our murderer, judging by his James Bond-style approach to murder, will make every attempt to appear immaculate. I don’t know why I’m bothering with this utterly pointless case, Lestrade is really getting out of his depth, but it is fascinating to see people actually believe everything they see on TV, it is stupid and I need more data.   
But this one, our dear, dear Mr Turner; the murder technique reeks of him; he’s been watching far too much TV and reading incredibly inaccurate novels, they’ve been carefully kept out of sight, but you can never be too careful; they’ve given him silly ideas and now they’ve become his downfall.” Sherlock trailed off, connecting misplaced dots, as he gazed out the poorly kept cab. (Dues is evident everywhere, except for the passengers seats. The windows have never been washed but the cab is new, judging by the number plate; highly irregular that a new car is neglected so woefully and with such disinterest. But he receives plenty of customers judging by the face he greeted us with when we got on. Conclusion: the cab isn’t tended to but why waste the obviously high wages he receives on mere car service. Disgusting.)  
“Funny, Mr Turner seems to have the same offensive taste in crime and detective shows as you, John,” Sherlock smirked, “I hope you don’t get any ideas; as stupid as they are there is a man dead.” He muttered.   
“John?”  
Sherlock turned to see; John should’ve at least snorted by now (unless his calculations were off? Did the jab at his TV habits hurt him? But surely John of all people could understand his effort. Hmm. Perhaps he should progress with that experiment to catalogue all of John’s responses to a broad variety of stimuli), yet there had been no response whatsoever. Instead, the cold, bare and painfully empty seat greeted him, a chilling slap to his face. His energy, the thrill of the chase, abandoned his body, carving out his mind as it left and leaving nothing but a terrifying blankness. He pursed his lips and turned back to the window, a resolute silence holding him. He closed his eyes.   
“John,” he whispered, feeling desperate, helpless as his better half was still in London, dealing with his ‘death’.  
“Oh.”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me; they're BBC's works of fiction.  
> This is my first attempt at fan fiction; do not hesitate to comment/criticise.


End file.
